


On the subject of teaching

by mithborien



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-31
Updated: 2005-10-31
Packaged: 2017-10-19 14:15:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/201772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mithborien/pseuds/mithborien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remus may have missed out on the majority of the boy’s life and he’ll never be as close or as personal as a godfather or a favourite uncle could be but he can be the boy’s teacher. He can be good at that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the subject of teaching

The station is unchanged.

Smoke blows cheerfully out the top of the Hogwarts Express, dissipating before it can tarnish the clear blue sky. There are a few early children about, the young ones shouting as they run to and fro while the older children talk quietly in groups and glare.

Remus feels out of place here, an intruder if you will, as if his patched robe and briefcase that is threatening to explode is somehow an insult to the happy atmosphere around him. He wonders how these children will take to him being their teacher, their elder. Whether they will like and admire him or scorn him behind his back.

He feels old and escapes onto the train before anyone notices him.

The compartments are almost painfully the same, forgotten pranks and laughter echoing down the corridors and he shuts the glass door firmly behind him before his memory can dredge up any old wounds. Those days are over, he tells himself. There is no point looking back to what once was, he should be looking to only what is and what could be.

The full moon was only a couple of days ago and he can still feel the wolf trying to pull his bones apart. He deposits his briefcase into the overhead luggage rack and slides into the plush seat gratefully. He plans to sleep away the journey back to Hogwarts and maybe that way he won’t have to deal with the memories the students are threatening to reveal for a couple more hours.

\+ + +

“It’s dark.”

Remus blinks and turns to stare blankly. “It’s night, you know.”

James grins. “I know that but it’s too dark. Something is out there.”

He continues to grin and Remus wonders how on earth he can remain so blatantly cheerful if he thinks there is danger about. They have been waiting for at least an hour at the corner of some forgotten street in the quarter of some lonely town. Dumbledore said he had heard some news of some unusual activity there and asked them to check it out but so far they haven’t even seen a rat.

“I don’t see anything,” Remus whispers.

“Well, it is dark, you know,” James whispers back insultingly and it takes more willpower than he would have liked to stifle the groan that threatened.

“Come on,” he says instead and hauls James to his feet.

“Wait,” James warns but it’s too late and Remus has already frozen on his feet.

There is a cold so chilling it makes his teeth ache and he can’t make his arm move to hold his wand properly. There is a howl rising in his ears and he is six again and trying to run but the wolf has him. The wolf is him.

“Expecto Patronum!” a gleeful voice calls out and a magnificent ghostly stag prances out into the darkness and the deathly shroud flees.

The fear and horror and emptiness lifts from Remus’ mind and all that’s left is the contagious feeling of James’ laughter and the charisma of the damn boy is so infectious that he starts to smile himself.

The Patronus is walking back to them now, slowly and sedately with a suspicious, smug little step to his stride. James pats him warmly on the side of the neck before the stag floats away.

“Guess Dumbledore was right,” James muses calmly. “We should definitely check out the rest of this town.” He turns brightly to Remus and grins. “Isn’t this fun?”

“You’re insane,” Remus wheezes and James laughs and claps him on the shoulders before guiding them both back to the shadows.

“No more than you,” James replies and Remus snorts.

“Hardly,” he says delicately but already the sharp stab of fear is disappearing. James has that way about him, that stupid, fearless courage that makes you think you can do anything. “That was a Dementor, wasn’t it?” Remus adds.

James nods. “First one we’ve seen out of Azkaban. Could be a rogue of some sorts.’

“Could not be,” Remus says quickly but James doesn’t answer. He doesn’t have to. Both of them know exactly what would happen if it turns out the Dementors are loyal to Voldemort rather than the Ministry. And both are aware of the scorn that the Minister replied with when Dumbledore expressed his concern over the issue.

“How did you manage to produce a corporeal Patronus so quickly though?” Remus asks.

James laughs again but this time it was quieter. “Just thought of baby Harry is all. He can give me happy thoughts to last a lifetime.”

He squeezes Remus’ shoulder and Remus is too caught up in the sheer joy in his friend’s voice to feel the customary pang of jealousy. He nearly doesn’t hear the scuff of footsteps behind them.

“Quiet,” James hisses and the night seems darker once more.

\+ + +

“Quiet!” Remus says, wincing inwardly at how hoarse his voice sounds.

His eyes are encrusted with sleep and mind blurry with old memories and it takes him a moment to realise that he isn’t outside in some dirty street but inside and it shouldn’t be so dark. The clamour of young voices arguing fades from his ears and a strange silence fills the compartment. It’s then that Remus realises the train has stopped, something that only happens in the most extreme of circumstances.

He conjures a handle of magical flames in his hand, noting the scared faces of the various students crowded into the compartment only in passing before getting slowly to his feet. He could have done with another hour of sleep but he guesses he should try to start to act like the responsible adult he is being paid to be.

“Stay where you are,” he says to the children in the compartment, trying to make his voice sound firm and reassuring. But before he can leave to go find the driver, the compartment door slides open and darkness and cold permeates them all. It’s been years since he has faced a Dementor and Remus freezes, howling rising in his ears. He can’t move.

But then a body falls in front of him. James! James is down but James can conjure a Patronus, he thinks. James can save them.

Then the flames in his hand flicker and shift and reveal the body writhing on the floor below him. It’s too small to be James and James never had a scar cutting across his forehead. A brief surge of joy shoots through him as he realises that it’s Harry. Baby Harry! Except it’s not the laughing, smiling little boy he remembers but a young man who is in pain and can’t fight.

The Dementor moves forward and Remus focuses enough to pull out his wand and the small amount of happiness at seeing his friend’s son is enough to turn the Dementor away.

The train jerks and the lights above him stutter back on. His breathing returns to normal and he looks down to find Harry still on the floor but stirring as two of the other students try to wake him as the others look on.

He watches quietly as Harry struggles back to his feet, the boy’s eyes passing over him without recognition.

“Are you okay?” a boy with red hair who Remus assumes is his friends asks.

“Yeah,” Harry says and Remus notices how shaky his voice is. The boy had obviously never come up against a Dementor before and Remus remembers how bad he felt after his first experience. The rest of the children look just as bad, all pale skin and shaking limbs so Remus takes out a slab of chocolate to help them feel better.

“But I heard screaming-” Harry is saying and there is only one experience that Remus knows of in Harry’s life that he could be referring too. The Dementors always manage to find the most painful of memories and Remus’ hands convulse on the bar of chocolate.

“Here,” he says and starts to hand out the chocolate, only belatedly realising he had made them all jump. “Eat it. It’ll help.”

Harry looks him straight in the eye as he takes the offered piece and Remus is struck by just how much he resembles his father. Minerva McGonagall had sent him letters over the years about how the boy was doing but they were always too painful to read. He has Lily’s eyes, he murmurs in his head, but neither Lily nor James’ eyes ever sported the suspicious, scared and maybe slightly defeated look that Harry has now.

“What was that thing?” Harry asks instead of eating the chocolate.

“A Dementor,” Remus replies. “One of the Dementors of Azkaban.”

Everyone is staring at him and he wonders if this is what it feels like to be a teacher. He crumples the empty chocolate wrapper and gets to his feet.

“Eat,” he repeats when he notices that no one has even taken a bite. “It’ll help. I need to speak to the driver, excuse me…”

He walks calmly out of the compartment but his heart is starting to pound.

So that was Harry Potter, he thinks. Baby Harry and his lungs feel like they’re constricting at the memories that are being brought up. He shakes his head roughly and moves toward the front of the train, assuring the curious children in the corridor that everything is going to be fine now.

The last time Dementors left Azkaban it was not good news that they brought and this time is no exception. Sirius Black has escaped and is after god knows what. Remus no longer feels he has any authority at attempting to deduce what the man might do.

What is painfully clear is that Harry needs help. His father knew all manner of defensive spells when he was younger. Admittedly some were more creative than practical but Remus’ mind is already starting to plan out defensive strategies that he can teach the students against all manner of things.

\+ + +

When he gets back to the compartment he finds that still no one has eaten the chocolate. He forces a small smile. “I haven’t poisoned that chocolate, you know…”

He watches as Harry takes a bite of the chocolate and his face no longer looks so deathly pale.

“We’ll be at Hogwarts in ten minutes,” he says. “Are you all right, Harry?”

Harry mutters and looks away and Remus assumes that the boy is just embarrassed.

Remus may have missed out on the majority of the boy’s life and he’ll never be as close or as personal as a godfather or a favourite uncle could be but he can be the boy’s teacher. He can be someone responsible who can guide the boy.

Remus smiles. He can be good at that.


End file.
